Always Hold Her Hand
by blvdgirl
Summary: The beach scene in Journey's End from the perspectives of both Doctors. Oneshot. A little angsty. Doctor/Rose, obviously.


AN- Ok, so everybody's doing it, but here is my slightly angst-y take on the end of _Journey's End _which I scribbled out long-hand on a plane last week. Read and enjoy and, of course, review.

ALWAYS HOLD HER HAND

He can't say it, not even now as he watches her struggle to maintain her composure in the face of another impending good-bye, but that doesn't stop how he feels it. It's a fathomless force pounding through him as persistent as time itself and as powerful, but it is in check. If he says it, if he verbalizes his feelings, if he allows her to hear the truth and allows himself the indulgence of watching the truth register across her radiant face, he'd never be able to leave… It would rip them both in half.

_He_ knows, the other him; he knows his Rose (no, he corrects himself, it's _their_ Rose now). _He_ says the words, _he_ gets the kiss, and, in time, _he_ will get her undivided heart… It will take some time, the Doctor knows. He remembers how she mourned his last regeneration. Hadn't he held her hand through it? And hadn't he loved her for it? After all, his ninth form hadn't exactly been the easiest him to love, but she had done so with her whole heart.

But, in time, she'd let her heart grow to include her "new" Doctor. And it will happen again, the Doctor knows, because they are the same man, always. And because he hadn't lied: "He needs you, and in that he's very much like me…"

He sees them, Rose and himself, and all he sees are possibilities. A house with carpets and a mortgage. Children. His and Rose's children –blimey, they're brilliant! He sees all of the beautiful mundane adventures of everyday life—2 am-street-corner-catching-a-taxi-home sorts of adventures! All of the adventures that he can never have because no matter how much he loves her, he can't stand still. And as much as he stills needs her, the universe needs him more.

But he is glad, so glad, that he can do this for her and, in a strange way, for himself. Rose Tyler, the most amazing girl in the Multi-verse, will be loved as well as she deserves—he knows that his counterpart can do nothing less. He may be a child of war and blood and genocide, but he was born loving Rose Tyler. There were a lot of things that his ninth form got wrong, but going back twice wasn't one of them…

Rose is crying and his first heart is shattering. He has to go now with Donna (thinking of Donna stalls his other heart—how is he still living? There's so much loss…) or he won't be able to. _Always hold her hand,_ he mentally orders the other him as he turns his back on them and pursues the safety of his ship.

_Of course_, he hears back.

The Doctor can't resist and he looks at his Rose one last time. For even if the Universe should be cruel enough to ever bring them together again, she'll have become _his_. For while they are still so much the same, they are truly different men with very different destinies. One will keep their Rose and try to make her happy, and the other, well, the other will continue to make right the universe with the love of Rose Tyler flowing through him until his life or the very last star in the heavens is finally extinguished…

Good-bye, Rose Tyler…

_Yours_, he thinks solemnly, and it echoes to the other him liking a standing order.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Mine, he ponders the thought, and it is utterly strange in his mind. In two bodies, he has loved Rose Tyler, but he has never dared hope that the Universe could be so kind to him and make a real human relationship (the beautiful human kind that she deserves) possible. And, thinking of Davros and the Daleks and all the other races and beings and planets that he's destroyed over the millennia, he knows that he doesn't deserve it, and he certainly doesn't deserve her.

He watches his counterpart turn his back on them and walk away—Rose has no idea how difficult this is for _him_ to do, but the Doctor does. He knows that it is only the weight of the universe and his responsibility to Donna that keep him moving.

Oh, Donna! His fabulous, fantastic, and selfless Donna! He has killed her too—he ruins everything that he touches... He knows what must happen now, to save her, and it is horrible. And within him, his rage grows against the Universe—how could it be both so cruel and so kind in the same circumstances. Must his happiness cost such a price? But he knows the answer to that already, and, while a small voice inside him tells him that Donna would knowingly offer the same sacrifice over and over again for him, he refuses to be assuaged.

His other self has hardly acknowledged him, not since the rest of their companions abandoned ship on the parallel earth. He's prodigiously proud of them all—living their lives, saving the world—but it still feels like abandonment. And he realizes that he will never see them again.

He doesn't blame himself for being cold—they both knew what was coming. From the moment that he'd come into existence with only a single heart beating in his chest, there was only one possible outcome. Rose had crossed universes to be with him (_them_) forever, and now she could be… He could live a lifetime with Rose Tyler, but the other him, the other him could only cling to the same old life knowing that someone else had taken his place in what-could-have-been…

_Always hold her hand_, the other Doctor had ordered. And, as that Doctor and Donna disappear into the TARDIS, he steps up to take his place at her side.


End file.
